The Detroits and Assorted Loons
Brilliant
What a brilliant weekend. My favourite weekend of the year bar none. Brilliant mates in camp, brilliant seamstress, brilliant running mates on course, brilliant gig, brilliant surprise commentator, brilliant love train, brilliant food, brilliantly organised, brilliant bogs, beautifully brilliant photography, brilliant beer run penis (and other assorted costumes), brilliant sunset, brilliant sunrise, brilliant weather and utterly brilliant running from 2059 of the runners. No 514 has room for improvement!
My brilliant daughter was in a small team and was brilliant. My brilliant wife was brilliant fronting The Detroits on Friday and then brilliantly solo with her solo mates on the course. She was also a brilliantly proud coach as some of her Marvels surprised themselves brilliantly on Equinox debut.
I had talked a mate into doing Equinox solo for his first visit. Needless to say he was brilliant. Smashed 7 laps and even had time for a few hours kip. He'll be back for a silver pin next year.
Personally, I had a brilliant time mainly due to the brilliant loveliness of everyone at Equinox towards me. I don't entirely get it but it's not for me to judge is it. I managed 5 laps, walked all of 2 of them and only ran sporadically during the other 3 and after 16rs and 19 mins I threw in the towel. I spent most of that time absorbing kindness and trying to dish out as much as I could in return. Most of you don't need much encouragement but it makes me happy if a shout of 'awesome running' results in a pained smile on your face.
The lap that did for me is detailed below Shitty Morph Night Lap. It's as slow and as painful a read as it was to experience for real. If you want to bail here I will leave it with a huge thank you to everyone at Equinox:
Super Ted and his Hi Fives
Marshals that helped me look for the cock hole in the Morphsuit at the crossroads and the worrying paramedic who wanted to medically block me from running in the Morphsuit when I couldn't see.
The hilarious cheers and the cheeky selfies.
Johnny and Laura, Kyle, Pop Top, SOS, Noodle Dude, The Dann's The Davies' and The Brady's, Poppyfields and Mich and Ellie without whom I'd struggle to do a lap.
Special thanks to Max the seamstress who brilliantly updated my Equinox skirt with 2021 when she arrived on the Friday afternoon and the brilliant Mick Hall and his team of photographers www.mickhall-photos.com
Finally, as ever, to each and every one of you that shares that course. You're a selfless network of wonderful, providing my annual therapy. I asked for your favourite pics from the weekend because, well, you lot are the stars of the weekend and a good pic often says it much better than my waffle. Skip to Your Best Bits for the best bits.
Shitty Morph Night Lap
I had been snoozing by the fire pit for an hour or so. Its was 1am. My spirit was probably already broken. A massage stop at the end of Lap 3 had helped but I was finding it easier and easier to convince myself that I shouldn't continue. I had mis managed my first night lap and so I had changed into the Polka dot Morphsuit (the black face is relatively easier to see through at night than the Gangster Morph white). I had layered up and within the negative voices an ever diminishing lone shout was to do one more lap through the night and I could still get to 10 overall. I knew this was never gonna happen.
I set off on Lap 5 at 1am. My vision was effectively zero. Normally through the night I can see enough of the course to know where I am going but this time I really struggled. Not too bad on the way round the top of the field or even to the Crossroads but after that I could not see a thing. I thought about turning back. My lack of strength and fitness meant I was walking so I figured what can go wrong if I am walking? A fall would be low speed, an ankle turn I am used to, so probably only going the wrong way. I thought I will give it a go.
I walk with poles. I knew I had road until the turn off onto the first field or The Shitty Bit as I like to call it. I have run this course enough times now to know where the pot holes and gravelly bit's are. I had made a mental note earlier in the day. So, I walked with one pole on the grass and one on the road and that way I knew I was on course. There is a big rock before the turn and when my right pole hit it I knew it was time to turn. I was now on grass.
Confident of heading in the right direction I walked until it got really rutty (where route meets fence on left) and then used my left pole alongside the fence and my right in the ruts. I knew the fence stays with me until we turn left at the woods to head down towards the road. Every now and then I would pause for a runner to pass me and my torch hitting their reflective kit gave me the reassurance I was heading in the right direction.
But for a couple of ankle turns the shitty bit was OK and the grass side down to the road was much nicer than the rocky path I had tried to navigate earlier. Once onto the road I could use the one stick on the grass method to continue. My main issue was pace. I knew I was crawling and I knew there were harder bits to come.
At the crossroads I paused leaning on the poles. I turned right when every bit of me wanted to go straight on and back to camp. The one stick on the grass method is great for direction but I always run the road down to Not That Hill in the middle to avoid the potholes that live on the right. It slowed me down stumbling through the potholes but it was a necessary evil for navigation. I knew I was approaching the bridge as the ducks get louder and I can hear the runner thud over the cattle grid cover. Left stick against the bridge wall and then the post. The thud on the grid as I walk over and now I know I'm approaching Not That Hill.
The speedbumps caught me out. I know they are there but unlike in the day when I can see the blurred yellow of the warning signs, the first thing I know about them at night is when I stumble over them. The marshals give me encouragement half way up and I am then listening out for second grid thumps. Once over the grid its a case of pothole caution and grass detection all the way up to the disco tent. It's nice to follow the sound knowing I get to see people, have a water and perhaps sneak a sit down.
As I approached Sunday Bloody Sunday came on. The first U2 track of the day. Not that I needed an excuse but that was it. I sat down, took the hood off and had a water and a chat. The paramedic had watched my wobbly approach and checked on me. She suggested, reasonably, for health and safety purposes, I remove the hood at night. When I told her the strict Morphsuit rules for this event she looked at me the same way Iain Hamilton did when I told him I was going to do Outlaw on a BMX. That look of resignation that says it's impossible to reason with an idiot. She was right.
One song turned into 4 before I got moving again. I left the paramedic shaking her head and embarked on the hardest and slowest part of the course. It had all got to me by now. Trying to navigate the course by memory, claustrophobia, tiredness and complete lack of mental and physical strength. I went down the dip but turned too sharp. I walked for a bit but wasn't suffering the adverse camber on the approach to the logs (nice new feature btw). Sensing I had gone wrong I waited for an overtake. Eventually two runners whizzed by about 15 metres to my right and I adjusted direction to get to the log pile. I had to repeat stop and wait a few times to navigate the down and then up That Hill.
The section from the cars to Not That Hill cattle grid was the hardest. No point of reference for the poles. No fence. I think if my watch Sat Nav was still recording it would have been a very wiggly route. A couple of trips into the bush and a stumble through the dip and I finally got back to the road and stick on grass got me down to the turn off for the lake. The path down to the lake was entirely stop and wait as was the last section back onto the road. It was a huge relief to get to the road. I knew I could navigate back to the field and then the field I could navigate by sound. Or, if I went astray, the scorch of a fire pit or the scream from inside a tent as I fell into it would alert me I had gone wrong.
The field lasted forever. Probably because I knew I would bail at the end of the lap. Only 5 laps in but knowing I didn't have time to hit 10 and I would be nowhere near a PB of 13, I made the decision that it wasn't worth breaking myself. A 3hr 19mins lap is too long to be on the course. I love being on the course but in regular 2 hourly chunks broken up with a return to camp.
That's a bad Morph lap and it was my last lap of Equinox '22. The rest of the morning was spent supporting through broken sleep from my trackside chair and then, as the sun came up, some proper supporting for the relayers and solos still smashing it.
Your Best Bits
